


Wild Fire Heart

by PixieKisses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Bill Weasley is amused, Discord: Dumbledore's Armada, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Marcus Flint, Gay Oliver Wood, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch Locker Rooms, M/M, Marcus Belby is traumatised, Mutual Pining, Snogging, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Words From Heroes Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26274289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixieKisses/pseuds/PixieKisses
Summary: In the midst of the Battle of Hogwarts, Oliver finds himself stuck in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch. Unable to douse the flames, he is quickly rescued by the one person he has been pining over for years. Can the two men finally seek the comfort they crave or are they destined to forever miss their moment?Written for the Words From Heroes Fest 2020 over on the Dumbeldore's Armada Discord Server.Prompt: "It takes a great deal of courage to see the world in all its tainted glory and still love it" - Oscar Wilde
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75
Collections: Words from heroes





	Wild Fire Heart

Oliver collapsed on the sand in the burning Quidditch pitch, tears streaming down his dirt and blood-streaked face. He tried to douse the rising inferno that was engulfing the wooden stands with shaking hands, his body exhausted. Just as he was about to give in and allow the flames to burn him along with his childhood love, a figure dressed in black stalked towards him. Pushing himself onto his elbows with a look of pure determination he prepared for what he assumed was an attacker. The flames lit up the strangers face, however, making Oliver gasp in surprise. This was no stranger. This was Marcus Flint. It had been years since he’d seen the man, and here he was back where they’d first met at twelve years old fighting over the Quaffle.   
  
“Oliver you idiot! What the fuck are you doing? Can’t you see it’s on fire?” Marcus yelled over the roar of the fire as it reached the goalposts, licking its way up the metal poles. 

“It’s gone! It’s fucking gone.” Oliver screamed, choking on the thick black smoke that was filling the stadium.

Marcus sprinted over to Oliver, sleeve over his nose and mouth, his eyes streaming. Grabbing Oliver by his shirt, he lifted the Gryffindor to his feet. He did not expect Oliver to cry out in pain. Swearing under his breath Marcus did the only thing he could do and hooked an arm under Oliver’s knees while the other slid around his waist. He lifted Oliver Into his arms before jogging as quickly as he could to the nearest exit. He didn’t get far when the wooden supports that once held the now burning stands collapsed, sending up a shower of red sparks. Pivoting in place, Marcus crossed the stadium as quickly as he could with Oliver clinging to him like a Demiguise.    
  
“You’re going to be okay, Wood. Nearly out,” Marcus encouraged as he dodged a falling piece of burning timber.    
  
Just as he made it into the Slytherin changing rooms and kicked the door shut behind them, there was a loud reverberating explosion. Marcus didn’t have time to investigate. He had to get Oliver somewhere safe before the idiot ran back out onto the pitch and got himself killed. Setting the semi-conscious man onto a bench, Marcus headed into the showers. Grabbing a cloth, he soaked it under the spray of the nearest shower before returning to his once former rival.   
  
The moment Marcus disappeared, Oliver collapsed against the bench with a groan. Wiping his brow with the back of his hand. He gave Marcus a half-smile as the former Slytherin cleaned his face and hands, wiping away the dirt and dried blood that coated his skin.   
  
“Thanks, Marcus. I appreciate it. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just saw the pitch, catch fire and all I could think was that I had to put it out. Only, I wasn’t paying attention and got hit with a fucking trip jinx. Ended up damaging my ankle.” Oliver explained looking down to his feet with an embarrassed look on his face. 

“I...umm...I should get someone to help. Hey Marcus, you can help me, yeah?” Oliver was rambling as he watched Marcus put up a series of complicated protection wards before he was struck with a bubblehead charm.   
  
“There’s nothing to save, Ollie. The pitch is nothing but ash. I know this place was where you truly felt alive but, you’re the star Keeper for Puddlemere, mate. That’s the fucking big leagues.” Marcus looked guilty as he took a seat on the floor and rested the back of his head against Oliver’s hip.   
  
Oliver gave a dark chuckle in response which quickly turned into full-on belly laughter. Tears of mirth streamed down his face. He wasn’t sure why he was laughing but he couldn’t stop. Marcus grinned before he, too, was uncontrollably laughing.   
  
“Hey, want to do something risky?” Oliver inquired with a mischievous look that would put the Weasley twins to shame.   
  
“Ollie, I just fucking walked through fire to save you from your idiot self. Why would I want to do whatever you have in mind?” Marcus gave him an incredulous look with the shake of his head.

“Kiss me,” Oliver replied with a crooked grin, emotion radiating in his blue eyes as he studied Marcus’ face for a reaction.   
  
Marcus spun to look at him properly, mouth hanging open in shock. “You want me to do what?” He enquired, making sure he had heard him correctly.   
  
“You heard me. Kiss me. Go on, I dare you.” Oliver shifted his position so he was inches from Marcus’ face. 

From this point, he was able to truly make out the colour of Marcus’ eyes. They were a pure ocean blue with flecks of honey-coloured bronze around the pupil. Oliver’s gaze flicked towards Marcus’ beautifully shaped mouth. Licking his lips he leant forward and pressed their lips together, not wanting to give Marcus a chance to back out. Unfortunately, he misjudged his position and tumbled straight into Marcus, sending them both crashing to the ground.   
  
Marcus felt like he was in heaven. For years, he’d fantasized about kissing the man that was currently running calloused hands under his dirt-streaked shirt, making the taut muscles quiver under his chest. Two could play at this game. Marcus threaded his hand through Oliver’s hair and swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. He moaned when Oliver’s mouth opened for him, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. He tasted of smoke with a hint of sweetness he could only identify as being distinctly Oliver.    
  
Oliver hummed at the way Marcus’ body responded under his touch. He pulled Marcus’ shirt up over the man’s head, breaking their kiss so he could take in the lean lines and hard planes of his chest. There was a dark smattering of hair across his pectorals and stomach, plus a thicker trail that led from his belly button into the waistband of his jeans. When had Marcus started wearing muggle clothing? Shaking the thought from his head, Oliver began leaving a trail of hot open mouth kisses down Marcus’ chest as his fingers deftly popped open the button of his jeans. Pulling the zipper down, he tugged them down the Slytherin’s muscular legs.

Marcus gave him a wicked grin when it became apparent he wasn’t wearing underwear. Sitting up, he pulled Oliver into a passionate kiss, hissing into his mouth when a firm hand wrapped around his half-hard cock and began stroking him slowly. He twitched under Oliver’s grip, panting loudly as his cock swelled until he was so hard it was almost painful. Determination gripped him, as did his impatience. Grabbing his discarded wand up from the floor, he vanished Oliver’s clothes before flipping him onto his back, being careful not to upset the man’s damaged ankle.   
  
Oliver moaned loudly as their tongues duelled for dominance. He continued to stroke Marcus, loving the small groans and moans the darker haired man, made in response. If the precum he could feel dripping over his fingers was anything to go by, he was doing an excellent job of pleasuring the man. He whimpered in annoyance when Marcus uncurled his fingers. Expecting Marcus to have a sudden change of heart he prepared to sit up, only to be pushed back down against the tiled floor.   
  
“I didn’t say you could move, Wood,” Marcus growled in Oliver’s ear as he loomed over the slighter man before grazing his teeth over Oliver’s pulse point.   
  


Marcus looked up sharply as he heard a chorus of voices calling Oliver’s name before there was a rhythmic banging on the locked door to the Slytherin changing rooms. He slammed his hand over Oliver’s mouth, holding a finger to his lips and wishing him to be quiet. Maybe if they stayed silent whoever was at the door would leave and they could get back to losing themselves in each other’s touch. Unfortunately, the banging got louder and louder, making it hard to concentrate no matter how exquisite the kisses along his jaw were. Marcus felt his wards vibrating before they shattered completely and the door exploded open, revealing Professor Flitwick, Bill Weasley and Marcus Belby with their wands drawn as they charged in.   
  
Marcus pulled away from Oliver who looked like he wanted to commit blue murder. The shocked expressions on the intruders’ faces had his cheeks flaming in shame. Grabbing his clothes, he pulled them on hurriedly before transfiguring the washcloth into some clean clothes for Oliver. Marcus Belby was looking at him in confusion, making him question what was going on between them. 

Marcus convinced himself the kisses and touches they’d shared only happened due to the heat of the moment in response to the battle of Hogwarts and  _ not  _ because Oliver truly cared about him. He gave the Gryffindor an apologetic smile before he pushed past Belby and out of the changing rooms. He didn’t stop until he was past the gates, apparating away.

Oliver crawled over to the bench and hauled himself up onto it. Grabbing the makeshift clothes he pulled them on, unable to meet his former Charms professor’s eyes. Bill Weasley had the most wicked smirk on his face, blue eyes radiating with understanding whilst Marcus Belby looked like he’d just walked in on his parents fucking like rabbits.    
  
“Thank you very much for the rescue, gentlemen, but as you could see I was being very well cared for. Now, could one of you please direct me to Madam Pomfrey. I’m rather attached to my feet.” Oliver gave a playful smirk as Bill helped him to his feet, allowing him to use the eldest Weasley as a prop.   
  
Lying on a hospital bed with a bandage wrapped around his ankle, and enough pain medication to topple a Centaur, Oliver drifted into a fitful sleep. He dreamt of exploring hands and a cock pistoning in and out of his arse, and he awoke the following morning with sticky sheets. It was something he hadn’t experienced since he was twelve years old and first discovered that boys could be more than just friends. 

The swelling around his ankle had gone down, and despite feeling bruised to the bone, he managed to escape the Hospital Wing before Pomfrey rose for rounds. Eyes burning with need and determination, Oliver was prepared to hunt down Marcus Flint and take him to bed if it was the last thing he did. Standing at the apparition point, he glanced over to where the Quidditch stands once stood before disappearing with a loud  _ pop _ !

Hogwarts might have lit a fire in his heart, but it was nothing compared to the wildfire that was coursing through his veins making his magic sing. Oliver had never been one to believe in soulmates, but after a near-death experience and the hottest snog of his life, he was starting to believe that fate had other plans.   
  
  



End file.
